


foundations

by stupidfearless



Category: Formula 1 RPF, Formula 2 RPF
Genre: 4+1 Things, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Canon Compliant, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Hand Jobs, M/M, Porn with Feelings, Rimming, chasing the dream is entirely to blame for this, like. the wikipedia page for the f2 2020 season was open at all times, this got out of hand tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-04
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-17 06:29:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29837445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stupidfearless/pseuds/stupidfearless
Summary: “Couldn’t help but notice your situation on the podium.” Mick’s eyes drift down to where Callum’s hand is still wrapped around his dick. “Figured you might want some help with that, COVID bubbles and all.”or; four times Mick and Callum help each other celebrate their podium finishes, and one time they celebrate a loss.
Relationships: Callum Ilott/Mick Schumacher
Comments: 23
Kudos: 102





	foundations

**Author's Note:**

> **dedicated to Lauren** \-- this absolutely would not have happened without you. thanks for putting up with my rants and yelling and teasing and supporting me every step of the way. thanks for being my inspiration when i had none and giving me all of my fun plot points. i love you to the moon and back.
> 
> this absolutely got out of hand, and it's totally chasing the dream's fault, so thanks to Gab for letting me use her F1TV account to watch cause otherwise this literally would not exist.
> 
> i never once intended to end up here, a month and ten thousand words later, and this totally took over my life, but i'm grateful to have gotten the creative bug again. their relationship totally ends me and i hope you enjoy my (arguably very filthy) interpretation of the 2020 f2 season!!

  1. **_red bull ring, austria, july 4th_**



Callum’s hard before his car even crosses the line, the thrill and the adrenaline of having claimed the first win of the season — and his first win in Formula 2 — coursing through his veins. He’s been out of the car for so long, thought at one point that this season wouldn’t even happen, and it makes pulling up to the podium markers even sweeter, blood rushing south at the sight of the number 1 in front of his car.

Callum barely takes stock of his body’s reaction, feels like he’s hovering outside of it as he receives his trophy, smile taking over his face as he tries to take it all in. He sees his team and engineers, spots Sylvia taking pictures for the FDA account and catches a shock of blonde hair — Mick, if the bright green helmet hanging from his hand is anything to go by — turning away just as the first spray of champagne hits Callum in the back. 

It’s only once he’s back in his driver’s room, interviews and congratulations out of the way, that Callum realizes he’s still hard, his dick burning a hard line down the pant of his race suit. He leans against the door, trophy hanging from one hand while the other palms at his erection through his fireproofs, a loud moan falling from his mouth at the pang of pleasure the touch sends up his spine.

Callum hisses under his breath and drops the trophy to the floor, the top half of his suit following as he undresses just enough to relieve the pressure. Distantly, he can hear the celebrations happening in the garage, but Callum can’t focus on anything other than the throbbing of his cock as he finally dips a hand into his fireproofs, tucking the waistband down underneath his balls. He feels like he’s got a live-wire trigger attached to his dick as he wraps a hand around himself, thumbing the head of his erection and biting his lip to keep his groans quiet.

The first slide of his hand down his shaft is just this side of too tight, and Callum adjusts his grip, chasing the long-forgotten sensation of a warm, wet hole. Lockdown had been lonely, had left him longing for a physical connection, and with the COVID regulations in the paddock, he wasn’t going to be able to fill that void until the season was over. He’d have to make do with his right hand, though with how desperate he feels right now, Callum figures that, as long as he keeps winning, it won’t be too much of a hardship.

The slick glide of his strokes has him grunting, eyes squeezing shut, turning to press his forehead against the wall next to the door. He feels high off the win, high off the possibilities of the rest of the season, of having the chance to finally claim his championship. His mind and body racing, Callum’s not so much jerking himself off as he is fucking into fist, thrusting his hips despite the trembling in his legs.

Too preoccupied chasing his release, he nearly misses being hit by the door as it opens, Callum’s eyes startling open to see Mick, his hand on the doorknob as he swings it shut as quickly as he opened it. Their eyes meet and Callum sees hunger reflected in Mick’s eyes rather than the shock or surprise he expected. 

“Couldn’t help but notice your situation on the podium.” Mick’s eyes drift down to where Callum’s hand is still wrapped around his dick. “Figured you might want some help with that, COVID bubbles and all.”

Mick crowds Callum against the wall. Callum’s blood is rushing in his ears as Mick gets a grip on his jaw, turning his head so that Mick can lean up to whisper in Callum’s ear. “Had to celebrate the guy who beat me fair and square, didn’t I? Took myself out, really, but you drove one hell of a race out there, Ilott. Nice to have some competition for once.”

The meaning of the words and the ghost of breath across the side of Callum’s face have his hips stuttering forward into his fist, once again chasing his release. Mick barely needs to brush his thumb over Callum’s pulse point to push him over the edge, and Callum just comes and comes, his fingers ending up covered and sticky and his brain fuzzy with pleasure. 

Callum can just make out the feeling of Mick’s smirk against his jaw, Mick’s hand still gripping it tightly, while his other arm slides around Callum’s waist to keep him standing as his legs threaten to give out from the intensity of his orgasm.

Callum’s brain nearly short circuits when Mick sinks to his knees, hands pressing on Callum’s hips to back him into the wall. He hasn’t even had a chance to go soft when Mick gets his mouth wrapped around Callum’s dick, tongue laving as he cleans up what’s left of Callum’s release, and the wet heat has Callum keening from the oversensitivity. Mick bobs his head, pulling off occasionally to stroke Callum’s dick, twisting his wrist in a way that has Callum whining and throwing his head back. Mick grumbles on about how great it is to finally have some competition, how hot Callum looked getting out of the car, and Callum’s not sure if it’s the praise or the knowledge that he’s got the respect of one of the best on the grid, but when Mick’s throat contracts around him, sucking him in again and taking him deep, the combination of all three have him coming quicker than he ever thought possible.

This time, Callum’s legs do give out, and he ends up sprawled on the floor, a lap full of Mick and the taste of his own cum in his mouth when Mick kisses him desperately, tangling their tongues together. Mick can’t help but grind against Callum’s abs, his cock hard where it's still tucked up inside his jeans. Callum might have just had his brain sucked out through his cock, but he wants Mick to know how grateful he is, so Callum splays one hand low across Mick’s back, urging him to continue circling his hips. Callum bites at Mick’s jaw while his other hand comes up to tug on the short strands of hair at the back of Mick’s neck, and the hint of pain does Mick in, has him grunting and spilling hard in his pants.

Callum’s mind is reeling, still trying to process the fact that Mick is here, in his lap, and that they’ve just gotten each other off, but Mick is already pushing himself to his feet, grimacing at the sticky feeling. He reaches a hand down to Callum, pulling him up until he’s stood in front of Mick on shaky legs, and it’s with a quick kiss to Callum’s lips that Mick makes his exit, throwing a “See you around, Ilott,” over his shoulder as he darts through the door and leaves a stunned Callum in his wake.

Callum’s soft, wet dick is still hanging out of his unzipped race suit and his trophy is abandoned across the room, and Callum shakes his head to himself in disbelief at what just happened. _What a crazy weekend_ , he thinks.

  
  
  


  1. **_hungaroring, hungary, july 19th_**



The next time it happens, they’re in a new country and Callum’s not the only one being celebrated. He hadn’t had the courage to approach Mick after his podium the day before in the Feature, wasn’t willing to take that chance when Callum could still barely wrap his head around how he had ended up with his dick down Mick’s throat, but he had considered going to Mick, and it’s that, more than anything, that surprises him. 

Callum can’t _stop_ thinking about it all, and sure, sex is great, race winning sex is even better, but his mind is focusing on Mick — on how big and broad he was when he crowded Callum against the wall, on how obscene his lips looked stretched around a cock, on how soft his hair was when Callum had it strung through his fingers.

So, when Callum finds himself on the podium after the Sprint race, Mick standing tall on the third-place riser to his left, he’s only slightly alarmed to find his palms are sweaty and his heart is racing more than it usually would after a good result. It’s their first shared podium in F2, and when their eyes catch while they’re spraying each other with champagne, Callum can’t help but wink at Mick, and he sees Mick blush sweetly under his mask in response. All at once, Callum knows exactly where he's headed after debrief with the team, and he’s not nearly as apprehensive about it as he should be.

Mick’s driver’s room is nicer than Callum’s — fit for a Schumacher, some would say — but Callum barely takes notice of it once his tongue is halfway down Mick’s throat, both of them desperately pawing at the other’s race suit to get it off. He doesn't know how they find the patience to lose both the overalls and the fireproofs, but he’s grateful for it, glad for the skin-to-skin contact. They end up piled on top of one another on the couch in their underwear, and Callum takes the initiative, pushing Mick against the arm of the couch while reaching into his pants to free his dick and give it a tug.

Callum feels less like he's on the back foot this time around, leaning down to suck a mark into Mick’s chest, playing with Mick’s nipples as he jerks Mick off slowly, teasingly, wanting to draw this out. Mick is a moaning mess underneath him, and Callum finally feels like he's got this, like he's in control. Mick has one hand clutching Callum’s shoulder and the other pushing at the waistband of his pants, fingertips already grazing the head of his dick. Callum obliges him, gets them both naked and ends up with his fingers stretched to accommodate both of them, their precum slicking the way for them to thrust their dicks against each other. 

The pleasure is mounting, but Callum feels confident that he can make Mick come first. That is, until Mick scratches his nails down Callum’s back, all the way down and the mix of pain and pleasure draws a noise from Callum that he’s never heard himself make before. Before he can process, Mick’s got a handful of Callum’s ass, his finger pressing firmly against Callum's hole and all Callum can think is that _he definitely does not have this under control_ before he's coming unexpectedly all over Mick's abs and his own fingers.

Callum buries his face in Mick’s neck, feeling his face flush in embarrassment. “Fuck, I’m sorry,” Callum groans. 

Mick has his head tipped back, so close to the edge, but he chuckles even as his hips buck involuntarily, one of his hands dropping from its place on Callum’s ass to wrap around his shaft, continuing to chase his release. “It’s hot, Cal, don’t worry, I’ll just - “

“No, no, none of that, let me make it up to you.” Callum swats at Mick’s wrist. He might have trouble getting his limbs coordinated, but he's not going to let that stop him from giving Mick the best orgasm of his life. 

Intent on sucking Mick off to return the favour, Callum crawls down Mick's body, licking up his own cum as he goes, and it earns him Mick’s loudest moan yet. Callum can’t help but glance at how blissed out Mick looks, and Callum gives into the urge to take a quick detour to kiss Mick deeply before he ducks back down and gets his lips wrapped around the head of Mick's dick. 

Callum sucks on the tip before going to town, spreading his lips as he takes Mick in deeper, choking lightly when Mick’s cock hits the back of his throat. Callum wraps his hand around what his mouth can’t reach as he hollows his cheeks and pulls off, building up a rhythm that has his jaw aching as he works to fit more and more of Mick in his mouth. Mick is whining, trying to make this last, but there’s spit dripping down his balls and Callum looks incredible with his flushed cheeks, mouth stretched around Mick’s girth, hair hanging in front of his face and it’s all over the instant Mick’s eyes meet Callum’s.

Callum does his best to swallow Mick’s release, but he can feel some escape, drip down his jaw until Mick’s thumb catches it. They’re frozen, staring at each other, Mick’s breath catching when Callum moves first, sucking Mick’s thumb into his mouth. 

“Shit, that was incredible,” Mick sighs as Callum releases his finger, rearranging themselves to sit up on the couch, while Mick shakes his head ruefully, almost as if to clear it. “Nearly as good as you are on track, Ilott.”

Callum chuckles and it quickly turns into a cough, his voice hoarse. “Not so bad yourself.” He smiles as Mick reaches across the floor to pick up their pants, accepting his when they’re thrown at him, both of them starting to dress.

“This is a much more comfortable ending than last time,” Mick chuckles, slowly pulling his post-race clothes from a bag on the floor, and Callum throws his head back in a laugh recalling how Mick had had to leave Callum’s room wet and sticky where he had come in his jeans. Mick clambers over to Callum on the couch, now dressed in shorts that ride low on his hips, no shirt in sight, and Callum softens as Mick’s hand comes up to cradle his jaw.

“Thank you,” Mick says earnestly before he leans in for a soft kiss. 

Callum can’t hide a smirk as he pulls away, hands squeezing Mick’s waist. “I can’t wait to see how we’re going to celebrate my win in two weeks. It _is_ my home race, you know.” Callum wiggles his eyebrows and Mick’s eyes crinkle in amusement as he pulls Callum up to stand.

“Cheeky,” Mick says, rolling his eyes, helping Callum back into his fireproofs and race suit. They walk side by side to the door, shoulders bumping, and Callum surprises himself by being the one to pull Mick into an embrace. It has the potential to turn awkward, ironically more intimate than anything they’ve done so far, but Mick relaxes into it and it’s _nice_ and Callum is so relieved that this isn’t the thing that will have him hiding his face in the paddock for the rest of the season that he places a gentle kiss on the edge of Mick’s jaw before pulling back and opening the door. 

“I guess I’ll catch you in Silverstone then, yeah?” Callum inquires, eyes bright as he focuses on Mick, trying to look his fill before the moment ends.

“Aren’t I the one trying to catch you? In the championship, that is,” Mick teases.

“Oh, you’ve got jokes! It’s cute that you think you’ve got a chance.” Callum feels lighthearted at their banter, is already looking forward to the next race and for the first time, it’s for more reasons than just getting to be back in the car. 

  
  
  


  1. **_circuit de spa-francorchamps, belgium, august 30th_**



As Callum stands outside the door to Mick’s hotel room, he feels a lick of shame in his gut, parts guilty, jealous and embarrassed. So far, they’ve only ever hooked up following a positive result for Callum — thinking about how Mick had gotten Callum off twice after his win at Silverstone, letting him come all over Mick’s face and ass, still sends shivers down Callum’s spine — but this weekend had been his worst in the car by far, and he’s not sure how to handle his emotions. Deep down, Callum knows he wants to be here, wouldn't have texted Mick to suggest that they take their arrangement somewhere more private if he didn’t, but his DNF in the Sprint had been the cherry on top of his shitty, sad weekend and Mick, well. 

Mick had racked up the points, deservedly standing on the podium in both races, really starting to make his claim on the F2 title. With Callum’s own disaster weekend still in his body, he finds it hard to navigate between the jealousy and resentment he's feeling towards Mick and his desperate need to have someone take him apart and put him back together. Callum’s nerves are frayed, and he’s got a pit in his stomach seeing his lead in the championship start to slip away, and he knows the only person who can help him get his head back on right is Mick. Callum’s hoping that getting on his knees for someone who’s actually deserving of it will settle him, so he takes a deep breath and knocks.

Since the beginning of all this, it’s felt like Mick has always been one step ahead of Callum, and once again, he understands exactly what Callum needs without having to be told. As soon as Callum steps over the threshold of the door, Mick recognizes that Callum’s in a mood and wastes no time getting a firm grip on his hips, kissing him soundly and pulling him towards the bed. 

Mick immediately takes control, pushing Callum down onto the mattress with a gentleness that contradicts the way his tongue is fucking into Callum’s mouth. Once Mick has Callum laid out beneath him, he doesn’t hesitate to pull Callum’s wrists above his head, pressing them together. Mick puts the whole weight of his body behind it, panting hard into Callum’s mouth as the latter whines under his breath. 

Mick’s voice is deep, on the edge of a growl. “Can you keep your arms here for me, Cal? Don’t let them move, not until I say so,” he requests.

Callum nods sharply, tongue thick in his mouth when he tries to make a sound, already overwhelmed by the pressure in his wrists and arms and the knowledge that, in this position, he’ll be left entirely to Mick’s mercy. 

Mick shakes his head fondly. “Gotta hear you say it, yeah? Then you can stop thinking, and all you’ll have to do is let me take care of you.” 

“Yeah,” Callum croaks out, “can, want it, please, Mick, I need -”

“Shh,” Mick soothes. “I’ve got you, I promise.”

And so, Callum gives himself over to Mick, lets him swallow the noises coming out of Callum’s mouth as Mick undresses him, Mick throwing his own shirt across the room and unbuttoning his pants to relieve the pressure. Callum is distracted by the broad expanse of Mick’s back, wringing his hands together above his head to avoid giving in to the overwhelming need to touch, so much so that he doesn’t even hear the click of a cap opening, doesn’t realize what Mick has planned for him.

Mick starts out gently, softly rubbing the skin around Callum’s hole to encourage him to relax once Callum’s brain catches up to the action. Mick takes a nipple into his mouth, preoccupies Callum just enough for him to be caught off guard by Mick easing his first finger inside, his breath catching at how _tight wet hot_ it feels. Callum fights the tension in his arms frantically urging him to anchor himself with a grip on Mick’s shoulder or hair, and he’s moaning near constantly as Mick moves his finger in and out, angling it around to find where Callum is most sensitive.

Mick works his way up languidly to two and then three fingers, especially when he sees what the pace does to Callum, how desperate he is, writhing shamelessly on the bed as he tries to get more and get closer and be touched, struggling to keep his arms steady where they’re tensing above his head. 

Callum loses track of how long Mick has been taking him apart, and it’s only when Mick has three fingers buried in his ass, Mick’s mouth sucking marks into Callum’s thighs and hips, whispering nonsense about how Callum is so good, one of the best on the grid, worthy of an F1 seat — when Callum's arms are trembling with the effort of being good for Mick, when his brain is finally, blissfully empty — that he comes so hard he sees stars, shooting all the way up to his chin. He feels like he’s floating outside of his body as he watches Mick frantically jerk himself off, the three fingers of his good hand still deep in Callum's hole, and it takes all of his energy to clench around where Mick is still inside him, but it pays off as Mick lets out a low, guttural growl and starts to release all over Callum’s chest.

Callum drifts for a moment, only starting to come to when Mick coaxes him to drink a glass of water, using a wet rag to wipe up the mess of both their loads on Callum’s stomach. With his brain coming back online, Callum feels hesitant, doesn’t know what comes next after such an intense moment between them. As always, Mick takes Callum by surprise by turning out the lights and jumping into bed next to Callum, going as far to spoon up behind him. Callum’s body goes tense until Mick mumbles something about how having a warm body next to him has always helped him sleep. “Relax, Ilott, just enjoy it,” he says in between yawns.

Callum doesn't have time to think about what it all means, because Mick's not wrong — between Mick's soothing presence around him and behind him and the mind-blowing orgasm, he’s out like a light, but he makes a mental note before he slips under to think about it when he wakes up. By the next morning, sun peeking through the blinds, Callum feels more grounded, dares to think that waking up in Mick’s arms is nice, revels in it a moment longer before checking his phone. He wishes he could stay right where he is and choose to not face the world outside of Mick’s hotel room, but Callum is late for his flight, barely has time to leave Mick a cheeky note on the side of the bed he’s vacating while Mick sleeps on none the wiser.

And with everything else going on, in the end, he doesn’t get a proper chance to reflect on what effect this has on their hookups — how it felt to submit to Mick, how nice it was to fall asleep and wake up together — before the next time they get together.

  
  
  


  1. **_autodromo nazionale di monza, monza, september 6th_**



Monza is _good_ , really good, to both of them. Callum starts the Feature race from pole and can’t even be mad when Mick takes the win, his first Feature race win in F2, shutting up the critics once and for all and proving that he deserves to be in the running for the championship.

Callum corners Mick from behind in his driver’s room afterwards, presses them together front to back, and licks the sweat from his neck as Callum takes Mick’s dick in hand. He jerks Mick off hard and fast, all the while whispering in Mick’s ear everything Callum wants to do to him. 

Callum’s voice is low and gravelly, deeper even than it normally is. “I can't do it now, cause it wouldn’t be right to get you out of sorts when we need you on your A game to drive tomorrow, would it?” Mick shakes his head, though Callum continues unbothered, running his mouth as usual. “I promise, Mick, as soon as the race is over tomorrow, I’m going to take you back to my room and make you come so hard you’ll feel it for days.”

Mick shudders at the thought and at Callum's touch, arching his back so that he can get his lips pressed against Callum’s and he gasps into the other’s mouth as he comes, promising to take Callum up on the offer.

And while the anticipation is good, it’s made even sweeter the next day when Callum gets a call from the FIA on his way back to the hotel from the track, having already slipped a key card into Mick’s hand before going their separate ways. Ticktum had been disqualified — something about an insufficient fuel sample — which meant that Callum was inheriting the win and Mick was being upgraded to his second podium of the weekend. The good fortune puts an extra skip in his step and Callum hurries to his room, determined more than ever to make this night memorable for Mick.

When Mick opens the door to Callum’s room, he’s freshly showered and looking soft as ever in sweatpants and a slightly oversized hoodie, and Callum finds himself fighting the urge to ditch all of his plans and wrap Mick up in a blanket, kiss him on the forehead and cuddle all night. Callum is brought back down to earth when Mick quirks his head at him. “What’s that look for?”

Callum blushes, feeling caught out, somehow more ashamed of his softer impulses than any of the filthy thoughts he’s had about Mick since the start of the season. “Nothing, just zoned out thinking about today, race and all that.” Callum shrugs, hoping Mick won’t call him out on the lie. “Not every day you get lucky enough to have a win dropped in your hands.”

“Mm, and I’m about to get even luckier, if I remember correctly?” Mick smirks and takes the initiative to push Callum towards the bed, settling into his lap once he’s seated on the edge. Mick is already half hard where he’s pressed against Callum’s stomach, clearly anticipating what's to come. Their lips meet and the kiss quickly turns dirty, tongues tangling while Mick circles his hips against Callum’s and the latter’s hands find a place on Mick's ass, massaging and squeezing and working him up even more. 

Callum pulls back when he feels the pressure mounting, regrettably close to coming already. “Fuck, Mick, Jesus. I told you I would take you apart, but I can’t very well do that if we’re both coming in our pants like teenagers.” 

Mick snickers, and it turns into a moan when Callum stands with Mick in his arms and turns to place him gently on the bed. Callum covers Mick’s body with his own, presses him into the mattress. “Let me celebrate you, yeah? Gonna make you feel so good, like a true winner.”

Callum takes his time with Mick, strips them both slowly, drags his mouth across each expanse of skin that’s revealed. Mick’s voice cracks as Callum teases his fingers across Mick’s abs. “Do your plans for tonight include ever touching me?” 

Callum smirks as he places a soft kiss to Mick’s nipple, Mick arching his back to chase the touch. Callum can’t leave any visible marks, but he wants Mick to feel this tomorrow, so he sets his teeth into Mick’s nipple before soothing the bite with a swipe of his tongue. He repeats the pattern, nipping and licking his way down Mick’s body, skipping over where his dick is leaking. Mick keens as Callum pays close attention to his thighs, Callum’s nose bumping the underside of his balls as Callum sucks a bruise into the sensitive skin, and Mick has never been one to beg, but he seems frenzied for Callum’s touch. Mick’s hands are twisted in the sheets, his body writhing like he can’t decide if he wants the teasing to stop or to go on forever, and finally, he’s reduced to moans of Callum’s name and begging for more.

When Callum gives in, it’s not in the way Mick is expecting. Callum gets him turned over on his front, cock pressed into a pillow propping his hips up, and Callum digs his fingers into the meat of Mick’s ass, spreading his cheeks and exposing his hole to Callum’s stare. Callum freezes, gets caught up in the moment, feels like he’s sharing something intimate and special with Mick even though he’s about to do one of the filthiest things he’s ever done.

Mick’s cheeks are burning, thinking about what Callum is looking at, but he’s also growing desperate and impatient. “Please Cal, I need you,” Mick pleads.

Callum closes his eyes at the appeal. “God, just - do you trust me?” 

Mick nods enthusiastically and without hesitation, and it heightens something in Callum, makes him feel like his heart is going to burst through his chest with how hard it’s pounding. He doesn’t bother replying, just tentatively leans forward and breathes across where Mick is exposed. He hears Mick sigh and takes it as a sign of encouragement to lick a long stripe along Mick’s ass, feels him jerk as he tries to rut against the pillow and push back against Callum’s mouth. Callum flattens his tongue and continues with drawn out drags across Mick’s hole, getting him wet, and Callum makes an encouraging noise when he finally feels Mick relax and lose the tension he’s been holding in his body since they got naked.

Callum moans again, and it reverberates through Mick’s body, has him trembling with pleasure. From there, Callum buries his face between Mick’s cheeks, tongue pressing inside once he’s warm and wet and loose enough. Callum eats Mick out like he’s starving, barely coming up for air, not letting up until Mick has tears running down his face, his hands clenched in the sheets, his back arching and hips pushing back into Callum’s mouth for more as he comes untouched, soaking the pillow beneath him. 

Callum is still achingly hard, dick leaking between his legs as he runs his hands soothingly down the breadth of Mick’s back. “Breathe, baby, that’s it.” 

Mick’s shudders begin to die down, and he turns his head to look at Callum, eyelashes still wet from his earlier tears. Callum groans at the sight, cock twitching. “Christ, you’re so hot like this.” He’s reaching down to wrap his hand around himself, eager to finally get off, when Mick’s hand grabs his wrist, effectively stopping his path downwards.

“Wanna help you,” Mick whispers, “you can grind on me, if you want. Want you to.” He nudges his hips up to illustrate what he’s implying, and Callum’s eyes nearly roll into the back of his head when he understands that Mick is essentially telling him to rub one off against his ass.

Callum shuffles his knees up the bed, leaning on his hands where they frame Mick’s chest. Oh so gently, he nudges his hips against Mick’s, whining as it makes his dick press up sweetly against where Mick is still wet and sticky from Callum’s mouth. He drags his hips back, creating a rewarding friction along his length, precum slicking the way for his next thrust forward and Callum doesn’t stand a chance, not when Mick starts groaning at how raw and tender his ass feels. Callum lasts two minutes, tops, his rhythm faltering and his forehead coming to rest between Mick’s shoulder blades as he releases all over Mick’s back.

Callum collapses next to Mick on the bed, trying not to crush him as they both breathe heavily. He brushes his fingertips across Mick’s cheek, tracing a path from his forehead to his nose to his lips and back again, admiring the flush on his cheeks and the deep blue of his eyes, and Callum can’t help but think that there’s nowhere else he’d rather be than right in this moment. He runs his fingers through Mick’s hair who pushes into the touch, cat like, sighing as he shifts his hips uncomfortably.

“I’ll be right back, don’t move,” Callum says softly as he pushes himself off the bed, not wanting to break the peace and quiet. 

Mick huffs at the loss of the hand petting his hair. “Don’t think I could even if I wanted to, to be honest.”

Callum returns with a wet rag in hand, sweeping it across Mick’s back and down between his cheeks. It elicits a whine of discomfort from Mick, which gets louder when Callum rolls him onto his back, away from the wet spot he’s left on the pillow. 

Callum grimaces when he sees the state of Mick’s stomach. “We should probably shower, you know, wash away the stickiness. I’ll even let you go first,” he offers.

“Generous, but I wouldn’t mind sharing. I mean, as long as you’re up for it too. We can do our part for the environment by saving water or whatever, I’m sure that’ll offset our carbon emissions.” They laugh and Mick accepts Callum’s outstretched hand to pull himself to his feet. He stumbles a little, steadies himself on Callum’s shoulder, looking sheepish. “Anyways, I’ll probably fall over if you aren’t there to keep me standing on two feet,”

“Mm, that good, was I?” Callum shepherds them towards the bathroom, one hand on Mick’s back and the other on his hip, and his cheeks hurt from how hard he’s smiling, knowing he’s the reason Mick’s legs aren’t working properly.

Mick shoots him a pointed look as Callum reaches to turn the shower on. “Don’t get too full of yourself or your head’ll be too big to fit in your helmet next weekend.” 

Mick lets himself be helped under the hot spray and he sighs, eyes closing as he melts back into Callum’s arms. Callum hums under his breath, chest rumbling, placing a soft kiss on Mick’s shoulder as they stand quietly, letting the water rush over them.

Their shared shower is surprisingly uneventful — wandering hands are kept to a minimum, though Mick lets Callum do most of the work, moving this way and that as Callum directs him. Callum massaging the shampoo into his scalp is satisfying, soft grins on both their faces by the time the suds are washed down the drain.

They towel off shyly, sparing each other glances in the mirror, and it’s comfortable and easy to be together like this. Callum lends Mick a shirt and it’s just this side of too tight, reminds Callum how much broader Mick is, but before he can let the thought progress into horny territory, Mick tugs him into bed and under the covers. Mick settles in with his head laying on Callum’s chest and their legs tangled together, properly cuddling up, and it overwhelms Callum so much that he can barely focus on anything other than the beating of his heart and trying to count Mick’s eyelashes where they rest on his cheeks as he breathes deeply, already fast asleep. 

Mick is up before him the next morning, already roaming around the room when Callum peels his eyes open. Mick pulls Callum into a sweet kiss once he’s gathered his things, and if Callum catches onto the fact that Mick forgot to take off the shirt he lent him, well, that’s between Callum and his right hand — and, on one memorable occasion, Marcus, when Callum can’t keep his groans quiet enough thinking about Mick wearing his clothes.

**_+1. nürburgring, nürburg, october 9th_ **

The two-month break comes rushing up at breakneck speed. Sochi had happened in a blur of fingers and tongues and slick, sweaty bodies pressed up against each other - it was, after all, another shared podium, and there was nothing better than when they both tasted like champagne - and then, before they knew it, they had time stretching out ahead of them, just enough to overthink the first ten races of the year and psych themselves out for the last two. It had gone by quickly, a whirlwind of COVID tests and masks and triple headers, and both championships were still yet to be decided, the title fight to be settled in Bahrain. 

It’s two days into the break and Callum is already going stir crazy. He’s in Maranello rather than back home in England, starting to prepare for the Free Practice session he’ll be driving for Haas in Germany, but his mind keeps wandering back to the blank space of time that comes after it. The idea of there being no driving, no race winning high — and with that, no getting off with Mick — for nearly two months is inconceivable, and Callum doesn’t know when he came to need that release, really crave it, but now that it’s gone, Mick is all he can think about. 

Between the two of them, there had been enough podiums for them to be getting off together on the regular, and Callum is reminiscing about those moments, bored out of his mind and vaguely turned on, when he puts two and two together. The fact is, even without the champagne and the rush of it all, Callum still misses Mick. And he’s not just missing the physical aspect of their relationship — though the thought does have his hands clenching into fists, interest brewing in the pit of his stomach — but he also misses the connection between them, misses Mick’s laugh and his bright eyes and the way he touches Callum almost reverently. Callum misses how real he can let himself be when he’s with Mick, how neither of them feel any pressure to keep the usual media filter on when they’re together. 

Callum used to think he would only ever find that kind of honesty with Marcus, but he’s glad to have found the same level of comfort with Mick, relieved that it seemed to grow hand in hand with their physical intimacy. The knowledge that he wants to be with Mick for more than just sex settles him, and it’s easy to picture Mick slotting into Callum’s life as more than just another competitor on the grid or a friend from the academy. Callum feels like he’s found the answer to a question he’s wanted to ask himself for weeks but hadn’t had the courage to. That night, he sleeps like a baby.

The certainty doesn’t last forever. In fact, the closer Callum gets to boarding the flight to Germany, the more the anxiety builds up in his chest. This thing between him and Mick is uncomplicated, but if Callum admits his feelings, things will inevitably change. Does he want to want to risk ruining it? Isn’t it enough that he gets to be with Mick, even if it isn’t in the way he wants? Could Mick even feel the same way?

The questions are still running through Callum’s head when he spots Mick in the waiting area for their flight. The tightness in his chest feels even more pronounced, and there’s an ache under his skin added to it. It hasn’t even been two weeks since they were last together — they’ve been apart longer than that before — but somehow Callum feels more touch starved than he did during the damn global lockdown.

Mick lights up when Callum sits down next to him, obvious even behind his mask that he’s smiling, and Callum might be terrified of screwing it all up but if the reward is having Mick grin at him like this all the time then Callum supposes the risk might be worth it. As Mick rambles on about how exciting this weekend is going to be, Callum decides that he’ll be honest about his feelings and tell Mick once they’re made it through FP1. It feels wrong to lie to him now when they’ve spent months being forthright with one another, and besides, there’s no better way to get over the possible rejection than not having to be in the same country as Mick for the next two months. 

Both of them spend the short plane ride nearly vibrating out of their seats with the excitement of the weekend to come and the implication that it has on their careers, and that adrenaline makes Callum bolder than he usually would be. Mick is wearing his typical cap, and it’s while he’s distracted, going on about something dumb Robert did at his home race, that Callum steals the hat from Mick’s head, inspecting it to avoid the shocked look on Mick’s face. Callum puts it on backwards on his own head, and when he looks up, Mick is fond, eyes crinkling from how big his smile is. 

“It looks good on you,” Mick says softly.

Callum feels himself blush, hopes his mask will hide how the compliment makes him feel like he’s in a cliché romcom with butterflies flitting around in his stomach. “And you look better without it, so I guess I’ll be keeping it then.”

Mick doesn’t protest, just goes back to telling his story, but he doesn’t take his eyes off Callum until the plane lands, and Callum thinks that his feelings might not be such a bad thing after all.

*********************************

_Cancelled_. The words are flashing on the TV screens in the garage, and his engineer for the session had come to tell him personally not even 5 minutes before, but it still doesn’t make it feel any more real. Callum thinks that he’s felt all kinds of lows throughout his time in motorsport, and really, an FP1 session getting cancelled, even when he was supposed to drive in it, shouldn’t even crack the top 10, but he’s crushed, can barely control the tears welling up in his eyes. 

_This might have been my only chance to participate in a real F1 weekend_. Callum has been trying to push the thought out of his mind all week, but he can’t stop it from being the only thing he can focus on now. Romain & Kevin are reassuring him that it’ll all work out, and he’s sure he’ll get the same sympathy from the other guys in the paddock, but the only other person who can truly understand him right now is in the Alfa garage, and as soon as he gets the blessing from the team to roam around, Callum goes in search of Mick.

He doesn’t have to look far. Callum spots Mick standing in the next garage over, looking out into the rain, and something loosens in Callum’s chest as he makes his way over. Their eyes meet and he can tell that Mick is trying to keep it together, can see it in the small movements that would be imperceptible to anyone else, and he knows that the pain in Mick’s eyes is reflected in his own.

Callum is acutely aware that they’re being watched from every angle. Ultimately, Mick being a Schumacher means that there are eyes and ears everywhere, and anyways, the cameras are studying them for any trace of disappointment now that the session is cancelled. They both have a long day ahead of them before Callum can seek out the kind of comfort he actually needs from Mick, but just being in his orbit and chatting about meaningless topics soothes Callum, and it seems to have the same effect on Mick if the loosening in his shoulders is anything to go by.

The cameras move away from them after a while, and Callum takes advantage of the shred of privacy it gives them to slide a key card to Mick. He seems grateful, but mostly relieved to have someone to wallow with later, and Callum thinks he’s gotten away with it until he turns around to leave, nearly bumping into Sebastian, who just winks and smiles wryly at Callum before patting him on the shoulder and walking past. Callum watches on as Sebastian reaches Mick and they begin a conversation in German, effectively leaving him clueless to their discussion, so he resigns himself to heading back to the Haas garage ahead of FP2.

Callum does his best to immerse himself in the rest of the day, but when the second practice session gets cancelled as well, the team is just as disappointed as he is, and there really isn’t all that much he can learn from an entire day of the cars being stuck in the garage. When he finally lugs himself back to the hotel, he’s dripping from the rain still pouring down and his mind is elsewhere, caught up in the defeat of the day, so Callum startles when he opens the door and finds Mick already curled up in bed.

Callum pauses a moment to take Mick in, and his heart skips a beat when he recognizes the shirt Mick has on as the one he stole from Callum in Monza. Callum imagines Mick turning to the borrowed shirt for comfort, and it gives him enough hope that he figures now is as good a time as any to tell Mick how he feels.

Callum drops his bags haphazardly and moves to perch on the bed next to Mick, can’t stop himself from petting Mick’s hair before asking the dreaded question. “Can we talk? Preferably over food, if that’s ok.” 

Mick’s stomach rumbles right on cue and Callum laughs, grabbing the room service menu when Mick nods his agreement. Callum hops up on the bed and pulls Mick into his chest so that they can look at the menu together because Callum is determined to enjoy this while he still can. 

They both order the least healthy options on the menu — if there was ever a day for a cheat meal, this is it — and when their food arrives, Mick steals fries from Callum’s plate even though he’s got his own, claiming that Callum’s are somehow better just because they belong to him. Callum gives in to the urge to push their food aside and kiss Mick deeply, delicately holding Mick’s face in his hands, and if this is the last time he ever gets to do this, he wants to remember it well. 

Callum pulls away slowly and takes a deep breath. “Mick, I really like you,” he starts.

“I like you too, Callum,” Mick responds quickly.

“No, I mean, that’s great, but I don’t think you get what I’m trying to say.” Callum gestures between them. “This thing that we’ve been doing? It’s been amazing to share these wins with you, and it’s definitely the best sex I’ve ever had in my life, but I don’t want to lie to you. I want more than just getting to have really hot sex with you on race weekends where everything goes right.”

Mick makes a noise of acknowledgment, and he doesn’t look freaked out, so Callum continues. “I don’t just want to be with you when things are going well. You’re the person I want to lean on when everything goes to shit.” 

Callum huffs out a laugh at the irony of them being together in this moment, their lowest of lows. “When they cancelled the session today, the first thing I wanted to do was find you and let you hold me and have you whisper happy thoughts in my ear to make me feel better. I never want to let anyone but Poppy see me when I’m upset, but now I want to share it with you. Hell, I even thought about whether or not Poppy would like you, Mick.”

Mick looks contemplative. “I talk to Angie about you, you know.” Callum’s face must betray his skepticism because Mick elaborates. “I haven’t really gotten a chance to go home more than once in the past few months, but my mom lets me FaceTime Angie, and then graciously ignores the fact that I’m mooning over the guy who’s leading the championship to my dog.” Mick ducks his head, flustered, but he presses on. “What I’m trying to say is that I want my dog to like you too, Cal.”

Callum can’t stop the smile from spreading across his face. It’s surreal and he can barely believe the fact that Mick feels the same way, but he’s not going to question it, simply content to bask in the happiness he’s experiencing. 

Mick mirrors Callum’s grin, though he questions the initial look of surprise. “Did you really think I’d let just anyone take my cap? Or that I’d let anyone touch me like that?” He blushes sweetly at the thought. “I don’t exactly make a habit of sleeping with the competition.”

“But you would make a habit of sleeping with your boyfriend, right?” Callum quips.

Mick raises his eyebrows incredulously. “Is that really how you’re going to ask me to be your boyfriend?”  
  
  


Callum smirks, openly flirting now that he knows this is mutual. “Is that not a yes? Cause I feel like both of us need some cheering up right now, and I know that getting my hands all over you is a sure-fire way to do it.”

Callum pushes Mick onto his back, looming predatorily above him, and Mick rolls his eyes but allows it, lets Callum settle into his lap anyways. They meet in the middle for a kiss that starts out surprisingly gentle, soft lips meshing against each other before their tongues come into play. It’s filthy, but it feels different than any other time they’ve kissed, feels like it somehow means something more now.

Mick gets his hands up Callum’s shirt, and he can’t seem to decide on where to touch first, goes from clinging to Callum’s shoulders to squeezing his waist to pressing bruises into his hips. Callum bites Mick’s bottom lip in retaliation for the latter, and it has Mick wrenching his mouth away from the kiss, panting. “Please tell me you’ve got lube and a condom around here somewhere,” he implores. 

Callum lets his head fall forward against Mick’s shoulder, groaning at the implication, squeezing himself through his pants to relieve the pressure. He nearly runs to the bathroom to get their supplies, and when he comes back, Mick is standing, in the process of undressing.

Callum is frozen in place staring at the acres of skin being revealed, and he feels like he’s back in Austria, still as incredulous as he was the day this all started that Mick, as beautiful and successful and talented as he is, would want _Callum_ of all people. Once Mick’s clothes have all fallen to the floor, he gestures at the bed. “Are you ever planning on getting naked?”

Callum blinks as the words register, and then he’s handing the lube and condom to Mick so that he can undress as quickly as possible. Mick waves Callum onto the mattress, tells him to lie down, though when Callum moves to lay on his stomach, Mick gets him to roll over, nudging him up to sit against the pillows. 

Callum is just happy to be along for the ride, so he follows Mick’s instructions easily. When he looks up, Mick is standing there, fisting his cock as he admires the man on the bed, and Callum whines and flushes at the fiery expression in Mick’s eyes.

Callum’s sounds get Mick moving, climbing up and sitting down firmly in Callum’s lap. The position makes their dicks rub together deliciously, finally skin on skin, but neither of them chase the feeling, both knowing there’s a greater reward ahead. Mick takes Callum’s hand into his own and presses their supplies into it. “Open me up?” he requests, timid in a way he hasn’t been in any of their previous experiences together.

Callum sucks in a breath. He didn’t think that tonight was headed this way, and as much as his gut is twisting imagining how it will feel to be inside Mick, Callum needs him to be sure. “You know you don’t need to, right? We can take this at whatever pace you want.”

Mick nods his confirmation, looking more confident than before. “Yeah, I know, but I want you, Cal, I promise,” he reassures, and Callum vows to commit this to memory, to remember exactly what sounds Mick makes and what kinds of touch leave him reeling.

Callum warms the lube up between his fingers and Mick hides his face in Callum’s neck, kissing the skin delicately as he waits. When Callum slowly slides his finger into Mick’s hole, he’s stunned watching the expressions of pleasure cross Mick’s face, and he starts moving in and out, looking for Mick’s prostate, intent on making him feel even better. 

Callum fingers Mick unhurriedly, doesn’t add another until he realizes that he can’t get the right angle with only one, and Mick loves that Callum wants to make this good, make him feel cared for, but he also knows what he wants, and he wants Callum’s dick inside of him. 

Mick starts moving insistently against Callum, trying to ride the two fingers tucked inside of him until Callum pulls them out entirely, nipping at Mick’s collarbone as a warning. “Impatient much? Just let me do this for you, babe,” Callum grumbles, but when he pushes back into Mick’s hole, it’s with three fingers rather than two, so Mick counts it as a win.

“You know, I really thought you were going to hold out on fucking me until I won the championship,” Mick says breathlessly, trying to distract himself from the mounting pleasure as Callum grazes the sensitive spot inside of him with every glide in.

“You mean until _I_ won the championship,” Callum bites back, twisting his fingers and drawing a keen from Mick as Callum suddenly presses unrelentingly against his prostate, “though getting to fuck you definitely would’ve been the real prize.”

Mick whimpers when Callum doesn’t let up, loving the intensity but impatient to replace Callum’s fingers with his cock. “Can’t you get on with it then and claim your prize now?”

And Callum is helpless to resist Mick. He drags his fingers out of Mick’s ass, both of them sighing at the loss, and he rolls the condom on quickly before adding lube to his length and Mick’s hole, making sure everything is wet enough. “Are you comfortable like this?” Callum asks.

“As long as I can see you, it’s perfect,” Mick says softly, and it’s so honest and raw that Callum is left speechless, can only nod in response.

Callum reaches down to fist his length, lining himself up with Mick’s hole, and his breath catches in his throat as Mick finally sinks down on Callum’s dick. Inch by inch, excruciatingly slow, Callum’s cock is engulfed in the tight, wet, heat of Mick’s ass, and there’s just no way this is going to last very long because Callum already feels like he’s on the brink and his dick is barely inside.

Callum throws his head back and squeezes his eyes shut to stave off his orgasm. He knows that if he were to open them, he would see the way Mick was flushed all the way down to his nipples, would see the place where they were connected, but then he’d be even closer to coming than he already is. Callum dares to open his eyes when he bottoms out, Mick’s weight settling on his hips. Mick’s face is twisted in a combination of pain and pleasure, but when he meets Callum’s eyes, he smiles. “Wonder who’s impatient now,” Mick teases.

Callum laughs, and it jostles Mick where he’s seated in Callum’s lap, causing both of them to moan loudly at the sensation. “Trust me, Mick, I need the minute to breathe just as much as you do,” Callum replies.

Mick rests his forehead against Callum’s. “Here, just, let me—” and then he’s rising up on Callum’s dick and every coherent thought Callum had left flies out of his head.

This is already the best sex Callum’s ever had by a long shot, but when Mick gets a steady pace going, lifting off Callum’s length and sliding back down until he’s impaled on it, Callum can’t imagine anything ever feeling better than this. His hands are gripping Mick’s hips, encouraging him as he rides Callum into the mattress, his hole gripping Callum’s cock exquisitely every time he circles his hips. Their moans and groans are loud, so much so that Callum has to lean up to kiss Mick quiet, swallowing his sounds between their mouths, but the movement changes the angle in a way that has Mick whining even louder when he sinks back down.

Mick can’t keep up his rhythm forever, can feel his thighs trembling as he tires, so he starts rolling his hips decisively in a grind that keeps Callum’s cock buried inside of him, pressed up directly against his bundle of nerves. He’s keening high in his throat, dick leaking where he’s rock hard against his stomach, but he wants more, wants Callum to make him take it. “More, Cal, I need— “

“It’s ok, I got you, I know what you need,” Callum mumbles against Mick’s chest before rolling them over, changing their position and pining Mick underneath his body. Callum’s weight forces Mick’s legs to fall further open and it pushes Callum even deeper inside Mick, both of them groaning in tandem. 

“Hey, boyfriend,” Callum whispers, their foreheads pressed together as they breathe into each other’s mouths. “Gonna let me fuck you now, yeah?” He doesn’t wait for a response, planting his knees into the bed and starting to thrust, now properly chasing their release. He fucks Mick fast, angling his cock to hit Mick’s prostate every time their hips slam together, and it has Mick whimpering beneath him.

“Please, Cal, it’s so good, I just need you to touch me,” Mick begs, his arms wrapped tightly around Callum’s shoulders and his legs splaying out on either side of Callum’s hips, happy to let Callum ravage his hole.

“Fuck,” Callum growls, reaching an arm between their bodies to stroke Mick’s dick, rhythm faltering as the heightened pleasure makes Mick’s ass tighten around Callum’s length. “God, you’re so incredible, so tight, are you gonna come for me, baby?”

It takes a few more well-placed thrusts and a twist of Callum’s wrist to push Mick over the edge, painting his stomach white with his release, and Callum is quick to follow when the grip of Mick’s hole around his dick becomes unbearable, hips stuttering as he comes into the condom.

They stay wrapped in each other as they come down from their highs, trading soft kisses and soothing touches and whispered words of affection. They linger in their bubble, still connected, until the stickiness between them grows uncomfortable and Callum finally pulls out, getting up to dispose of the condom, and Mick is making grabby hands at him before he’s even gone. 

Callum feels like he’s floating on air, and he laughs at Mick’s actions, blowing him a kiss as he bypasses the bed. “At least let me be a gentleman and get you cleaned up.” 

“I thought I heard boyfriend earlier, now you want to be a gentleman too?” Mick pouts, smile returning to his face when Callum emerges from the bathroom, rag in hand.

“Want to be everything for you,” Callum replies honestly. The declaration seems to stun both of them as Callum freezes, their expressions reflected in each other’s wide eyes. It’s Mick’s giggle that breaks the tension, both of them falling into stitches, and it allows Callum to relax. “Wow, ok, that was way more intense than I intended,” he says wryly as he wipes at Mick’s stomach. “Doesn’t mean it’s not painfully true, but —”

“I want that too, you know.” Mick is earnest and his eyes are bright, and it feels like it should be too much, too fast, but they’ve got time to figure that out in the future.

For now, they get settled under the covers facing one another, their hands clasped together between them. Callum’s body is still thrumming from the events of the day, but the rollercoaster of emotions — from the heartbreak of the session being cancelled, to the elation of getting himself a boyfriend — has left him drained, and his breathing evens out as Mick looks on fondly. 

When they wake up tangled together the next morning, they take a moment to breathe each other in, knowing that they have a packed Saturday schedule ahead of them that will keep them apart. But before they can get moving for the day, Callum keeps Mick in bed with him for one more important piece of business. 

“Hey Mum, this is going to sound weird but… Can you put Poppy on FaceTime?”

**Author's Note:**

> you can come yell with me about callum & mick on tumblr [@acrosstobear](https://acrosstobear.tumblr.com/)!!


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